Unsettling Dreams
by Anais Renaud
Summary: Dreams that do come true can be as unsettling as those that don't.


Ziva shivered. The combination of the cold D.C. air and the thrill of a stakeout had her especially on edge tonight. She felt her gun push slightly against the curve of her hip as she reached for her binoculars.

"The only thing you're going to see is a window with some ugly-ass curtains, Ziva," Tony whispered. "Exactly the same as the last time you picked those up two minutes ago."

Ziva's flashed an annoyed expression. "Things can change quickly." Pursing her lips, she turned carefully towards the house, adding, "And I find the curtains rather attractive, for your information." Out of the corner of her eye, something flickered. Ziva's natural reaction kicked in, her hair standing on end. Putting a hand on her Sig, she gestured towards the edge of the lot. Tony nodded, instinctively reaching for his gun.

Ziva moved with light steps and feline grace along the edge of the building as Tony followed. Her Mossad training controlled every step. She gripped her gun as Tony came up next to her. The back door of the house was slightly ajar, with a few spots of blood on the handle. Turning his head in, Tony pressed against his ear piece. "Boss, we might have a situation…"

Gibbs' voice rumbled into Tony's ear. "Then take care of it, DiNozzo!" He heard McGee's voice mumbling something in the background. Nodding at Ziva, he took a beat before whipping out his gun and opening the door gingerly.

"You know, I thought I'd be used to this by now," Tony remarked as Ducky and Palmer made their way in with a gurney.

"Used to what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs strode in behind them, cup of coffee in hand, never mind that it was 11 PM.

Ziva laughed a little. "He can't handle the bloodbath, Gibbs." And bloodbath it was. A man was face down on the polished wooden floor with a gunshot in the back of his skull; another man was crumpled against the wall, shot the same way. Shards of broken glass were scattered like fallen stars, bouncing light around the room.

Tony sneered at her as McGee rushed in with his Nikon and a cup of coffee. "Nice of you to join us, McProbie," Tony said with his usual hint of sarcasm.

"No need to be such a bully, Tony." Ziva snapped on her latex gloves and flicked Tony on the shoulder. He moved to push her, but she shied away, nodding at the tweezers she was holding. Tony grabbed his camera and snapped a few pictures of the scrap of paper held between the tweezers before Ziva dropped it gently into the evidence bag in her hand.

After an hour or so the crime scene was processed and every imaginable bit of evidence was secured, bagged and tagged. "Get some rest and be ready tomorrow morning," Gibbs remarked before walking slowly out of the door with Ducky and Palmer in tow. McGee tagged behind Ziva and Tony as they walked towards their cars.

"See you guys in the morning." McGee yawned before opening the door to his Porsche and driving away.

Ziva and Tony exhaled in unison. "Well…that was a fun way to spend my Tuesday night," Tony said with a smile. Ziva tucked her Sig back against her hip and gave a small smile back. It was Ziva's first crime scene since her month-long trip to Israel, and she was anything but the same. If it was even possible for her to be flinchier, she certainly was. Tony had watched her work herself to death every week. He knew there was something, but it was impossible to get anything from Ziva. His train of thought was interrupted by Ziva nearly tripping as she reached for her car door. Catching her, Tony laughed.

"Ma'am, are you in need of a designated driver tonight?" Again, she gave him the same small smile.

"I've gone 48 hours without sleep before. No need to underestimate me," she sighed as she unlocked her car. "Goodnight, Tony." Her car roared to life, and she swerved away from the curb before speeding away. Tony sighed and leaned against his car, breathing in the cold autumn air. He had to wonder when she would come around. She wasn't Ziva anymore, or at least not his Ziva. Not the Ziva who took outshot everyone on the range, who barged into a room like nobody's business, who never used contractions and always cleaned her gun and…

Tony shook his head and those thoughts disappeared. He decided it was time to go home and get some rest, like Gibbs had said; there's not any point in dreaming, he thought.


End file.
